


Missing Pieces

by starrdust411



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angst, Body Image, Depression, Domestic, Drama, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Bruce Banner, Female Clint Barton, Female Steve Rogers, Female Thor, Hurt/Comfort, Infertility, Strained Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-19 12:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3609909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrdust411/pseuds/starrdust411
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I always knew it was a risk. Erskine told me right from the start that it might happen, but… I didn’t care. I sort of figured I was already in that boat to begin with. At least after the serum I’d be healthy.” Stephanie frowned at her fingers, laced together firmly in her lap and trembling ever so slightly as she spoke. She could feel the slick sweat of her palms almost as keenly as the flush burning her face. “They were offering me a second chance, a clean bill of health and a better life. When you’ve practically got one foot in the grave, you don’t put much thought into the future.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The weight of disappointment sat heavily in the pit of her stomach as Stephanie stared with blurred red rimmed eyes at the results. The house was empty, but the walls of the tiny bathroom created an echo that was almost too painful to endure as she covered her mouth and fought to hold back the sobs pouring from her throat. She had expected this, expected it just as she had with each test before, yet the pain never seemed to dull, no matter how many times she had looked at those two little pink lines on the face of the white plastic stick. 

A part of her wanted to second guess this, because even she was aware that home tests weren’t always accurate, but Stephanie knew better. Somehow she had thought it would be different, that this time things would work out, because something inside had felt different and right.

Her grip tightened around the strip of plastic until it cracked clean in half in the palm of her hand. She sighed, wiped at her eyes, and tugged at the toilet paper roll in order to create a cocoon around the test and the painful results. She sat in the bathroom for five more minutes, allowing herself to dwell in the bitter disappointment for a bit longer, before splashing water on her face and carrying on with the day.

-

Jody had Sam’s eyes, bright and brown and kind, even if he was just his sister’s son. He was nearly two years old and big for his age with his long limbs and full cheeks and when Stephanie placed him in her lap he went without a fuss. She smiled and touched a hand to his cheek and was rewarded with a giggle and a smile.

“He’s so cute,” Stephanie told Sarah whose smile was a mirror image of Jody’s grin. He chuckled when she gave him a quick bounce on her knee and Stephanie rewarded him with a pat to the stomach. “And so sweet.”

“Yeah, real sweet,” Sarah chuckled wryly as she sat down on the couch beside her. She grabbed Jody’s long legs in her hands, her vibrant finger nails gleaming in the afternoon sunlight pouring in from the open window. Her grin broadened as she gave his foot a playful shake. “Just don’t let him get too close to your hair. This one likes to pull. Keep those earrings away too.”

From across the room Stephanie could hear Sam’s mother, Darlene, give a knowing laugh. She glanced up to see her touch a thoughtful hand to her own earlobes, a slight grimace lighting her features even as she turned back to her conversation with Sam. Stephanie laughed and gave her head a quick toss, adjusting the ends of her hair until they were safely over her shoulder and out of reach from curious little fingers.

“Jody? Do you wanna give your Auntie Stephanie a kiss-kiss?” Sarah cooed as she tickled Jody’s foot.

Stephanie stiffened momentarily at the affectionate nickname, but relaxed when Jody threw his little arms around her neck as best as he could and offered her cheek a swift peck. Her insides felt warm and soft as Jody’s head of curls brushed against her. She hesitated a moment, waiting for some sign of approval from Sarah who smiled easily before Stephanie leaned in to give Jody’s round nose a tender kiss. The toddler exploded into a fit of giggles and Stephanie decided right away that she would spend the rest of the evening with Jody in her arms.

Sam’s brother Gideon arrived an hour later with his wife and their own pair of little ones. They were older than Jody, five and six respectively, but they were sweet and clever and easy to win over. When the Wilson family sat down for dinner that night, Stephanie was forced to hand Jody back to Sarah, but was more than happy to spend the meal allowing little Jimmy and Polly to bombard her with all the questions they could come up with.

“You made a pretty good first impression, Rogers,” Sam teased, elbowing her playfully in the side as they walked from the front steps towards the curb where the car was parked between Gideon’s minivan and Sarah’s newly leased SUV. “I may have earned back a few points from skipping out on Christmas last year.”

“Well, bringing Captain America to Sunday dinner _is_ a pretty good way to earn points with the family,” Stephanie shrugged as the car door unlocked with a heavy click. “Although, I’m not sure we can make it a regular event.”

She slid into the passenger’s seat as Sam started the engine with an easy chuckle. “Yeah, I know you’ve got a busy schedule to get back to. A lot of ribbons to cut and elbows to rub.”

They pulled onto the road just as Stephanie’s phone began to vibrate in her back pocket. Stephanie sighed as she pulled it out, tapping on the screen to reveal the newly arrived message lighting up the display. “Not sure how much elbow rubbing I’ll be doing in Latveria.”

-

“So I hear Sam brought you over to meet the family.” Black Widow’s voice was oddly light as it filtered into her ear through the private channel they were supposed to be using purely for the mission. The words were barely audible over the sound of bullets riddling the surface of her shield, but Captain America heard it clear enough to grimace in response. “Should I be expecting ‘a save the date’ card any time soon?”

Cap huffed as she ducked and rolled out of the way of the bullet spray and towards a sturdy pillar that would provide enough cover for the time being. “Don’t you have Doom-bots to take out?” she returned before hefting her shield into the sea of metal figures, resulting in a collection of clanks and bursts as the robots were ripped to shreds on impact.

“Already on it,” Widow told her confidently, the sound of gunfire followed by explosions greeting her ears. 

The shield came whizzing through the air and back to her waiting hands, the base meeting her palm just as an arrow came soaring by her head in order to embed itself in the chest plate of an approaching Bot. Sparks and wires rained down on her, pinging off of the vibranium surface of her star and stripe splashed protection before falling to the ground. Cap glanced up just in time to see Hawkeye leaping down from above to land easily by her side.

“Well, if you are planning to recruit bridesmaids, just know that Tasha and I don’t do ruffles or lace,” Hawkeye noted slyly as she reached for another bow in her quiver.

“Or taffeta,” Widow said pointedly.

“Or taffeta.”

The bombardment of input didn’t decrease on the flight back, with the quinjet being filled with a wealth of increasingly uncomfortable comments. Stephanie was sore and covered with dirt and fried wires, but mainly she was grateful that Sam had not been roped into accompanying them on this particular assignment.

She groaned as she unbuckled her chin strap, rubbing at her jaw even before the sturdy material of her helmet was pushed off of her scalp. She could feel her hair sticking up in odd tuffs, but didn’t bother to smooth it down, even as Natasha slid into the vacant seat beside her. Her own suit wasn’t looking so pristine, a few scraps and tears littering the sleeves and mud caking her boots, but her stance gave off nothing but indifference.

“You’re going to turn him down, aren’t you?” It was a question, but the certainty in her voice told Stephanie that Natasha knew the answer before even speaking.

Stephanie did her best not to flinch under Natasha’s intense gaze, but the knot of guilt straining her stomach made hiding the effort difficult. “There’s nothing to turn down,” she told her firmly. “There hasn’t even been an offer.”

Natasha’s lips twisted slightly as she continued to study Stephanie’s reaction. “But when he asks you, you’re going to say no.” She shifted slightly, her stance turning a touch less confrontational as her eyes softened minutely. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she said instantly, then reconsidered. She knew better than to think that Natasha would be satisfied by that sort of answer. “It’s just… not the right time.”

Natasha frowned at that. “You’ve been together a year.”

“Not yet. Not officially. We met a year ago last April, but… we weren’t together til July.”

A small smirk curled her lips at that. “Okay, it’s a bit fast, I’ll give you that, but the two of you work. It’ll be worth the risk.”

Stephanie shook her head, but said nothing. She had a feeling that Natasha wouldn’t understand. No one could.

She glanced up as Clove came to sit down beside her, having finished re-setting most of her arrows and peeling off her more damaged layers. “Second stipulation,” she said casually as she ran her fingers through her short golden brown hair. “If you do go with a patriotic color scheme, then I would appreciate my dress be blue, not red.”

“You do look better in blue,” Natasha hummed thoughtfully.

“I really do.”

-

Stephanie loved Sam’s hands most of all. The skin of his palms were rough and calloused the way any soldiers were, but his touch was always warm and sure no matter what part of her body he caressed. She groaned as the strong fingers on his left hand dug into her hips as the palm of his right ran up and down her back. She arched herself up to press their bodies together, wanting more of his touch, shivering as the curls of his chest hair brushed against the smooth skin on her breast.

“Sam,” she breathed as he attached his full lips to her throat, caressing and sucking in a way that made her eyes flutter. “Sam!”

His hips twitched as he hummed against her throat in response. “That’s right baby,” he said, his voice deep and rumbling. “I got you. I got you.”

Her grip tightened on his shoulders and his scalp, her body already shuddering before Sam even came. She could feel his release despite the protection between them, but she closed her eyes and imagined it wasn’t there, imagined that she could have exactly what she wanted.

“Baby? Stephanie?” The brush of his fingers against her cheek was what told her of the tears rolling down her flushed face. She looked at Sam and found herself drowning beneath the wave of concern flooding his gaze. “Hey, you okay?”

She sighed and turned away, her damp face burying into the pillow beside her even as Sam did his best to get a better look. “Nothing,” she said, scrubbing at her cheek and feeling foolish and small beneath him. “It’s nothing. I guess this assignment just took a bit more out of me than I thought.”

The mattress shifted as Sam curled up behind her, his bare chest warm pressed up against her back. His calloused hand settled against her hip, his grip loose as his thumb brushed lazily against her heated skin. Stephanie shivered at his steady strokes, the flow of tears slowly easing from the comfort of their contact as Stephanie forced herself to be content, to tell herself that this was enough. 

“Well, you’re back,” Sam murmured as his lips brushed against the curve of her shoulder, his hot breath like a caress of its own. “And I’ve got a free day tomorrow. We should do something. Maybe go somewhere nice.”

Stephanie felt her stomach coil at the seemingly innocent suggestion as Natasha’s teasing comments came floating back into her mind. “No, I… I think I’d rather stay in,” Stephanie told him in what she hope was a reassuring and calm voice as she reached over her shoulder to give his side a firm squeeze. “Having a nice quiet day at home… It’s been a while since we just sat on the couch and ate take out.”

Sam was silent for a moment and Stephanie could feel the mix of disappointment and concern coming off him in heavy waves, but if Sam suspected anything he did not bother to comment on it. “Okay, we’ll stay in. It’ll give us plenty of time to plan for next month.” She could practically feel the smile on his face as he placed his sharp chin to her shoulder, the stubble scratching lightly at her smooth skin. “Birthday’s coming up, anniversary coming up… we should do something for that.”

“I don’t wanna make a big fuss,” she said dismissively. She turned over, shifting their positions until Sam was laying flat on his back so Stephanie could use his chest as a pillow. It was easier to speak with Sam’s view of her face obscured by her blonde hair pooling across his chest and Stephanie was careful to keep her head ducked and out of sight. “Everyone always makes such a big deal out of my birthday. It’s just another day.”

He snorted at that. “It’s the fourth of July. It’s kind of a national holiday.”

“Don’t remind me,” she joked as playfully as she could manage. “It’s just an excuse to go over the top. I don’t want that this year. No surprises or anything.”

“Okay, quiet birthday.” Sam shifted slightly and Stephanie could tell without looking that he was starting to frown. “And I guess you don’t wanna do anything big for our anniversary either.”

A part of Stephanie began to feel guilty at the comment, but she gathered up her resolve and carried on. “Just being with you is good enough for me.”

“Baby,” Sam sighed wearily.

“Please Sam,” she cut in. “Please. Can we just… go to sleep?”

The silence between them was heavy, strained, as Sam seemed to consider the situation for a moment. Yet gradually the tension in the air began to ease as Sam’s body relaxed and his breath became level and even.

-

“I always knew it was a risk. Erskine told me right from the start that it might happen, but… I didn’t care. I sort of figured I was already in that boat to begin with. At least after the serum I’d be healthy.” Stephanie frowned at her fingers, laced together firmly in her lap and trembling ever so slightly as she spoke. She could feel the slick sweat of her palms almost as keenly as the flush burning her face. “They were offering me a second chance, a clean bill of health and a better life. When you’ve practically got one foot in the grave, you don’t put much thought into the future.”

Dr. Banner was quiet as Stephanie spoke, her expression calm and neutral as she listened to the hesitant words tumble out with all the reluctance in the world. It felt strange to open up like this, to allow herself to be so vulnerable around someone who wasn’t Sam or Bucky or even Natasha, but Stephanie was getting sick of the uncertainty gnawing away at her. She needed answers about her own body, about what limits the serum had created in her, and the only person alive who knew enough about the super soldier serum to give any real answers was Dr. Banner.

Banner sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Infertility is a tricky thing to treat, Stephanie, but it is possible.” She shrugged and ran her fingers through the loose patch of hair that had slipped out of the sloppy bun pinned at the back of her head. There were streaks of gray along the temples, too many for a woman Banner’s age, and Stephanie quietly wondered how many of those grays were Hulk related. “There are certain drugs and exercises that could help increase your chances of fertility. However, the situation we’re looking at is a bit more complicated.” Brooke frowned and tapped at the screen of the tablet in her hands as she looked over all the information she had on the original super soldier serum. “What you have is a heightened immune system, one so acute that it instantly perceives any outside entities as a threat and attacks.”

The words came with no surprise to Stephanie, only the familiar sting of disappointment as she hung her head and nodded in understanding. “So conception would be impossible.”

Brooke nodded as she put the tablet aside where it gave a light click against the smooth surface of the table. “If it’s any consolation,” Brooke began hesitantly as she clasped her hands together and leaned forward ever so slightly on her stool. A small wry smile tugged at her lips as her right leg began to jitter in the air. “You and I are sort of… in the same boat.”

For a moment Stephanie found herself staring over at Banner in quiet surprise, but immediately regretted doing so. It seemed obvious now for Brooke to be suffering just as she was and Stephanie felt selfish for not considering that. “I’m… sorry,” she said weakly, the words feeling hollow in her own ears even if she felt the sympathy strongly in the pit of her stomach.

“Its fine,” Brooke said, shrugging in a way that made it very clear that she was not fine. “I brought this on myself. Working in a field like nuclear physics comes with its risks. Besides, in a lot of ways it’s something of a relief knowing I’ll never have to worry about any little Hulk babies in the future.”

Stephanie nodded along as she listened to the words Brooke had likely told herself and others many times over the years. She knew that deep inside Brooke still felt as cheated as she did.

The laugh that came from Stephanie was small and strangled as she rubbed at her cheeks and fought off the urge to simply collapse under the weight of her own frustration. “Is this where you pictured yourself as a kid?” she chuckled bitterly. “Is this even close to what you imagined your adult self would be like?”

Brooke tipped back and gave a smile that was almost as bitter as Stephanie’s laugh had been. “Actually when I was a girl, I always figured I’d end up marrying a man just like my father,” she admitted. “So… that’s one small victory.”

-

“Now I don’t know much about hair, but I have a feeling if you keep brushing that same patch like that, you’ll end up with a bald spot.”

Stephanie stiffened, her hand going still mid-stroke as she blinked in response to Sam’s words. She hadn’t paid much attention to his movements in and out of the room, but she stared at him like a ghost as he stood in the door frame of the en suite. Stephanie chuckled softly to herself as she pulled the brush away from her head to rest in her lap, strands of blonde hair tangled together amongst the plastic bristles to create a little golden pad against her lap. “I guess I did get a bit carried away,” she said distantly as she put the brush aside in favor of weaving her hair into a loose braid for the night.

Sam stared for a moment, watching as she carefully parted sections of her hair, combing out a few stubborn knots with her fingers, before coming to sit next to her on the bed. It wasn’t particularly late at night, but Stephanie felt drained. Her mind seemed sluggish as she struggled to process the day’s information while keeping the mixture of frustration and hurt deep in the pit of her stomach from boiling over. Yet she had just enough awareness to feel Sam’s eyes sweeping over her, studying the deft movements of her fingers as she tied off the end of her braid with a small elastic band. His firm hands came down on her shoulders, the weight of his grip reassuring as his thumbs kneaded at the muscles of her shoulder blades.

“You’ve been acting like a zombie all day,” Sam said, a heavy note of worry punctuating his words even as he leaned in to brush his lips against the nape of her neck. “What happened? Something come up?”

“No, I…” She swallowed as Sam’s hands stopped their tender massage and began to slide gradually from the top of her shoulders down towards her elbow. It made her keenly aware of the fact that Sam was sitting behind her with his bare chest exposed and how her own body was covered with just a flimsy t-shirt and a pair of shorts. The thought of turning around and pressing their lips together drifted in her mind just as suddenly as the memory of her conversation with Banner earlier that day. “I just haven’t been feeling like myself.”

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked with another brush of his lips, this time on the back of her neck, the scrape of his chin hairs causing her skin to erupt with pleasant little prickles.

“No.”

Even without looking Stephanie knew that Sam was frowning -- not heavy, just concerned – and the miserable ball that had already formed in the pit of her stomach began rolling with guilt. “Baby, you know I don’t like to push, but you’ve been keeping to yourself a lot lately.” He sighed against her back as his fingers continued to brush along the muscles of her arm. “It’s not healthy. We gotta talk.”

“I know, Sam,” Stephanie assured him. She wanted to take her hand and put it on top of his, but somehow her fingers simply would not lift themselves and continued to rest stubbornly at her side. “I’m just… not ready.”

-

The chairs in Maria Hill’s office weren’t particularly uncomfortable, but Stephanie was stiff and erect as she sat across from her. On most days, keeping still was easy, years of military training had helped to make the act of keeping a straight back and planted feet second nature, but inside Stephanie was filled with jitters she was barely holding back as Hill took her time and tapped out a few words onto the computer screen. 

“There’s nothing really pinging on my radar at the moment,” Hill told her, her steady gaze never leaving the monitor’s glowing face. “No missions that would require the attention of Captain America and the Avengers.”

“No ma’am, not the Avengers,” Stephanie corrected as she channeled a bit of her pent up energy into smoothing out the imaginary folds in her pants. “Just me. If you have any solo assignments, somewhere far way and not likely to end soon, I’d be more than willing to take part.”

Hill pulled her eyes away from the screen in order to give Stephanie a calculating look. Stephanie did her best to keep her face neutral, but Hill’s gaze kept its critical edge as she turned her equally rigid figure in order to give Stephanie her full attention. “Captain Rogers,” Hill began slowly as she clasped her hands on top of the smooth finish of her desk. “Is there anything that I should know? Anything at all?”

Stephanie felt her eyes sink towards the floor for half a second, which was likely just enough to gain Hill’s attention. “No ma’am,” Stephanie said firmly as she arched her already rod straight back that much more against the chair. “Nothing at all.”

“Nothing?” Hill pushed with a minute shrug of her shoulders. “Nothing you’d care to inform me about the team?”

“No ma’am.”

“Nothing you want to discuss regarding your relationship with Sam Wilson?”

It was difficult to resist the urge to flinch at the comment, but Stephanie managed it by squaring her jaw and steadying her gaze. “No ma’am. Just letting you know I would be available for any extra duties you may have.”

Hill didn’t look convinced, but allowed the subject to slip by. She turned her attention back towards the computer monitor and continued typing away with the same focus as she had before Stephanie had set foot into her office. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Captain Rogers.”

Stephanie nodded as she pushed back her chair and walked out the office.

-

“I was thinking of meeting up with some friends tonight,” Sam said thoughtfully, his words interrupting the steady sound of their forks clinking gently against their plates. Stephanie glanced over at him from across the table, the slight tilt of her chin a silent encouragement for him to continue. “Maybe grab a few drinks while we watch the game.”

“Sounds nice,” Stephanie said distantly as she took a sip from her glass. “What time do you think you’ll be back?”

Sam’s frown was noticeable even before Stephanie could completely pull her eyes away from her glass, but he soon shook his head and did his best to erase it. “I was kinda hoping you’d come with me.”

Stephanie’s plate was already clean, which was just the excuse she needed to get up and take it over to the sink. “Its sorta last minute,” Stephanie said with an exaggerated sigh as she turned on the water and began scrubbing the few dishes that had gathered at the bottom of the sink. She shrugged as Sam gathered his own cup and plate and dropped them off with the others in the water. “I’m not really in a very social mood.”

The faint mark of concern was starting to become a regular presence on Sam’s features and Stephanie felt her stomach twist with guilt at the knowledge that she was almost entirely responsible for that. “You haven’t been in a very social mood for almost a week,” he said as he walked around Stephanie in order to grab a towel and begin drying the pots stacked up in the dish wrack. “You know what might help with that? Having a talk with your incredibly patient boyfriend.”

A small smile pulled at the corners of her lips at Sam’s teasing and the thought of finally opening up and confessing to all the dark thoughts swirling in her head was tempting, yet she kept her jaw set against the words. The push to confess was not nearly as strong as the dread of what would come after.

“Or maybe,” Sam went on, likely sensing Stephanie’s reluctance in the face of the looming topic, “you might wanna talk to someone neutral. I could probably find someone for you down at the VA? Or maybe Hill could…?”

“I don’t wanna talk to anyone,” Stephanie snapped, because it wasn’t the first time Sam had suggested she seek counseling, but somehow the implication stung so much worse this time. “I’m sorry, I just… I don’t know…”

Sam’s arms found their way around her, snaking behind her back and gently turning Stephanie until she was pressed against him with her nose buried against his shoulder. Somehow the warmth of his body and the feel of his slightly damp fingers cradling the back of her head was enough to send tears pouring from her eyes.

“You’ll be okay,” Sam promised as he ran his left hand through her hair and his right stayed firm against her waist. “We’ll be okay.”

Stephanie wanted so desperately to believe him, but deep down inside she knew it couldn’t be true.


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re upset.”

Stephanie frowned at Bucky and the intense searching gaze he was currently using to study her face. She sighed and shook her head as she leaned back on the wooden bench. Those two words had been the first sentence Bucky had uttered since the two of them had come to sit beneath the shade of the tree. It was late June and the humidity was making the mere act of stepping outside nearly unbearable, but Stephanie would rather suffer through it than skip out on her weekly walk with Bucky.

Bucky was doing better under the care of the new SHIELD. His hair was still long, but clean and less scraggly, and there was actual color returning to his cheeks. Yet his eyes remained dull and distant and he still hardly spoke more than a few words unless he was pressed. It was difficult at times to be with him, to see the empty shell of what had once been her best friend, but Stephanie pushed aside that discomfort for Bucky, because he wanted to see her. He was remembering more each day, remembering bits and pieces of his past, and being with Stephanie seemed to help, so once a week Stephanie would visit and take Bucky for a walk so that they could discuss things, “catch up” on their lives and reminisce about the past. It was a poor imitation of their former relationship, but it was better than nothing.

That day, however, Stephanie couldn’t find it in herself to talk or share. She felt ashamed at the knowledge that she had allowed her own foul mood to seep into their time together, especially when the day should have been about helping Bucky. “I’m sorry, Buck,” she said sincerely as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

Bucky was silent for a moment as he considered Stephanie’s words, a calculating look settling on his features as it often did whenever Bucky tried to interpret emotions. “Is this about Sam Wilson?” he asked, his features growing somewhat dark as he placed his hand – his real hand – on top of Stephanie’s knee. “Did he do something? Did he hurt you?”

Stephanie laughed in spite of herself, because it was just like Bucky to worry about her even when she was strong enough to pull the ears off an ox. “He didn’t do anything Buck,” she chuckled as she offered the back of his stiff fingers a soothing pat. “He’s a good man.”

He nodded, his expression losing a bit of its ominous edge as his gaze drifted towards the horizon and the bright patch of grass warmed by the afternoon sun. “Natalia says you’re going to marry him.”

The small bit of mirth Stephanie had been feeling slipped away at that and she made a point to roll her eyes even though Bucky wasn’t looking at her. “She told you that, huh?” she huffed. “Well, she’s jumping the gun a bit ‘cause he hasn’t asked me yet.”

His features didn’t change as he gave another steady nod. “I used to set you up,” he noted, his voice as distant as the memory drifting back into the forefront of his mind. “You never went for my guys.”

“They never went for _me_ ,” Stephanie told him as she gave the back of his hand a quick brush with her own heavy fingers. “The small, scrawny type wasn’t to their liking. I doubt big and boxy woulda been much better.”

Bucky turned and looked at her, his eyes seeming to focus for the first time as a slight note of confusion pinched his brow. “You’re beautiful.”

Stephanie chuckled and pulled her hand away. “You’re an idiot.”

Bucky said nothing to that, seeming to accept her words as he pulled his hand away from Stephanie’s knee and resumed his blank stare off into the distance. Stephanie waited a beat for him to say something, to make a witty retort the way the old Buck would, but when Bucky did no more than breath in the thick summer air, Stephanie realized that she wasn’t going to get a response.

“I’m not going to marry him,” Stephanie confessed at last, the words feeling like a weight evaporating from her chest. “I… I don’t think I could marry anyone.”

Bucky kept facing forward, but he frowned at her words. “Why?”

She shook her head. “I’m not the marrying type.”

“You wanted to get married before.”

“That was the old me.”

This time Bucky did look at her, his frown deepening as the confusion grew. “He’s a good man.”

She nodded with a sad smirk. “Too good.”

-

Stephanie found that her luck came in very short supply, because at last Hill finally called in with a mission that would take at least a full day and required an immediate response. Yet the downside to the situation was that it was an assignment for the Avengers, which meant that Stephanie was forced to spend the next twenty seven hours with the exact group of people she was having a hard time sharing space with. 

It wasn’t all bad, since the ground work kept everyone busy and focused on their task and made no time for small talk. Focusing on equalizing threats and coordinating their resources also kept Stephanie out of her own head as she easily pulled herself into full Captain America mode.

Yet the chaos had wound itself down and the proverbial (and literal) dust had settled enough for Captain America to slowly feel weighted down by all the tensions that had been plaguing Stephanie Rogers for the better part of the month.

“Great job, ladies,” Iron Man called out to the team, his smug tone tinged by the metal filter of his external speakers and Stephanie could practically see the self satisfied smirk on his face. “You all did some fine work today.”

“Stark, we’ve talked about your sarcastic use of the word ‘ladies’ in reference to the team,” Cap reminded him tersely, doing her best to reign herself in and not allow her quickly darkening mood to cloud her judgment. “It amuses no one.” 

“It amuses _me_ , grandma,” he practically beamed as he spoke and Cap had to remind herself that this was just Stark’s way of compensating for his status as the sole male Avenger.

Stephanie frowned down at her soot coated boots, suddenly at a loss for a retort as she felt her mind begin to drift further away from herself. 

“Rogers may be a sweet little lady in her nineties, but at least she’s not the one with grays in her happy trail,” Black Widow shot back, her face and tone completely neutral and detached as she sat beside Hawkeye while they waited for their SHIELD extraction team.

Hawkeye didn’t bother to hide her laughter as she rubbed at her no doubt sore wrists. “Okay, how exactly do you know that?”

“That’s what I wanna know,” Iron Man said as his face plate lifted in order to better display his sour frown.

“Your jolly green girlfriend told me,” Widow said flatly, her words punctuated by a heavy crash and a deep annoyed growl only a few yards away.

Stark glanced over his shoulder and frowned in distaste before allowing his mask to fall back into place. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he reminded them as he prepared to lift up in order to go seek out the Hulk. “We’re lab partners with benefits.”

The team watched in varying stages of amusement as Iron Man took off towards the sky as the churning air that foretold of the quinjet’s arrival scattered the dust and rubble around their feet. It took less than an hour for Stark to return with the de-Hulked Brooke wrapped in the customary blanket and wobbling along beside him. Stark kept his pace slow and steady, his metal encased arms hovering close to Brooke’s side just in case a bad step sent her toppling over herself. It would have been easier and less time consuming for Iron Man to simply carry the doctor in his arms, but Banner had made it clear several times in the past that unless she was unconscious she wanted to get by as best as she could on her own.

“You know there’s no shame in needing a little help,” Tony chided her, his voice remarkably low even with the use of his speakers. 

“Are you actually lecturing _me_ about pride, Tony Stark?” Brooke managed to ask with a feeble smile as she carefully walked barefoot across the gravel and debris scattered along the ground. “Because I’m not the one with framed self portraits in my bedroom.”

“I can help you with that if you’d like, Doctor,” Iron Man shot back, his smirk clear in his tone. “Say the word and I’ll bring someone in to capture your likeness. I’ll have you immortalized au natural in marble and put it on display in the foyer.”

“You do that and I’ll smash it myself.”

The weight of a firm hand on her shoulders was enough to make Stephanie jump as she pulled her gaze away from Stark and Banner’s light hearted exchange and over towards the Asgardian Princess standing beside her. Thor’s face was pinched with concern, a look that wasn’t at all suited for her radiant face and Stephanie had a feeling it was her fault for causing such gloom in her teammate.

“Dark clouds seem to have gathered around you, my friend,” Thor began gently, her husky voice a soothing rumble as she spoke in a rare low tone. “What troubles you so?”

Stephanie chuckled as she reached a self conscious hand towards her head only to find her fingers met with the firm material of her helmet. She frowned and unbuckled her chin strap, allowing a few wisps of blond hair not tucked and pinned in its usual place low at the back of her head to blow against the steady breeze that was gathering. “I’ve had a lot on my mind lately,” she admitted. “It’s something that’s been bothering me for a while, but…” She stopped and shrugged considering whether or not it would be a good idea to share any more. Thor was kind and generous with her concerns towards others, but in many ways she was also young and naïve and Stephanie had a feeling that she wouldn’t be able to understand what she was going through. “I suppose I wasn’t ready to deal with it this soon.”

“Running from your troubles does little to cure them,” Thor chided and immediately held her hand aloft in defense. “Yes, I know. The irony of my words is not lost on me, my friend, but perhaps you will take them more to heart given the knowledge that I know of which I speak.”

Stephanie smiled, her eyes drifting away from the intense look on Thor’s face to the thick rope of a braid resting against her broad shoulder and to the heavy red cape billowing gracefully behind her. If there was any irony in this situation it was that Stephanie was speaking with a woman who had inspired the legends of a god of thunder and _fertility_ about her own failures in the latter. Yet, as Banner had said, fertility wasn’t her real issue.

“You may speak freely with me, Rogers,” Thor reminded her, her words pulling Stephanie back to the present. “I swear on my honor you shall have my absolute confidence and discretion.”

Stephanie frowned as the knots building in her stomach seemed to tighten as she considered the situation. Sam had told her several times that she needed to talk to someone and at the moment, Thor was there and willing to listen. She sighed and met her friend’s gaze. “I, um, I’m starting to think that Sam wants to ask me to marry him.”

For a moment Thor’s face brightened, but it was quickly pushed aside when confusion settled once again on her features. “This is joyous news,” she began carefully, “yet you do not seem to think so.”

“No,” she confessed. “No I don’t, because I can’t marry him.”

Thor’s whole face seemed to crumple as if it was her proposal that was being rejected and Stephanie had to hold in the urge to grin at the overwhelming disappointment. “Why?”

“Because I can’t…” The words “pregnant” and “baby” strangled her with the effort to push them past her lips so Stephanie sighed and tried again. “I don’t think I can be what he expects me to be.”

Stephanie watched as Thor’s jaw tightened, her whole face growing somber as her back straightened and fists clenched. She huffed bitterly as she lifted Mjolnir in a tight fist. “I know much of expectations, my friend,” she said lowly, her own eyes drifting downward and for a moment Stephanie thought she caught sight of tears sparkling in Thor’s eyes. “I have told no one this, but my birth was met with much… disappointment by my lord father. He desired a son, a male heir to take the throne after him. Odin saw a daughter as less than worthy to rule in his stead and even my claim on Mjolnir was questioned.” Thor’s hold was firm yet tender as she grasped Stephanie’s gloved hand in her own and offered it a supportive squeeze. “Love, true love, is not built on expectation. It is patient and unconditional, as it is with you and Samuel. Truly, the man you have chosen is an honorable one, that has been proven time and again, and such an honorable man would never weigh you down with his ‘expectations.’”

It was strange to see Thor speak so passionately about something that was not combat, yet the emotions gleaming in her eyes were raw and powerful. Stephanie almost felt embarrassed to have witnessed a moment of such open vulnerability from Thor. “I don’t think you understand,” she sighed, ashamed to argue with Thor on the cusp of such an impassioned speech. “I can’t do the things a wife should do. I can’t… I can’t give him what he deserves.”

“You love him. That is what he deserves.”

-

The last thing Stephanie expected to see when she came home after the mission was a pair of plane tickets with a departure date set two weeks away. Sam was doing his best to keep his cool, but his eyes were twinkling with their typical enthusiasm as he offered the printed paper to Stephanie’s reluctant hands.

“Key West?” Stephanie sighed already shaking her head at the very idea. “Sam, I said I didn’t want to make a big deal out of this.”

It wasn’t the response he wanted to hear, but Stephanie could tell that Sam had been prepared for it because his smile hardly wavered. “I know baby, and I promise we’ll keep it low key, but I wanna go somewhere with you that doesn’t involve super suits and terrorists.”

Stephanie said nothing as she considered that, considered how unfair it was that Sam always seemed to do all the things she wanted. She frowned and sat down on the couch, her body stiff and heavy as she grasped the tickets in her hands. “Have you ever been to Florida?”

Sam’s face was practically beaming with excitement and boyish glee as he sat down next to Stephanie. “No, but I’ve always wanted to go. Now, we don’t have to stay there if you don’t want, but I talked to Stark and he said he knew about this nice villa he could book for us.” His smile had split his face from ear to ear as he wrapped his left arm around Stephanie’s shoulder and rubbed her knees with his right hand. “We could hit the beach for a few days, take in some sun, eat some key lime pie…”

Her pointed silence didn’t go unnoticed as Sam’s words gradually began to trail off and his bright features grew dim with concern. Stephanie offered him a weak smile, but the weight of his warm hand on her knee made the effort feel almost unbearable. “I can’t…” she began, intending to tell Sam she wouldn’t go, but somehow couldn’t find the strength. Stephanie sighed and licked her lips, doing her best to gather her strength. “I can’t… have kids.”

She couldn’t bring herself to look at Sam, but from the corner of her eyes she watched as his face went through a hundred different emotions as he processed what had just been said. The hands that had been caressing her only seconds ago slowly began to snake their way around her and press Stephanie’s body firmly against his in an embrace that was tender and comforting and one that made her feel unworthy of such kindness after everything she had put him through. “Stephanie, I… I’m so sorry,” Sam whispered, his words sounding choked, almost uncertain and so strange to hear. “I didn’t… how long did you know?”

She sighed as she blinked away the tears blurring her vision as they threatened to pour from her eyes. It was difficult to hold in the tidal wave that had been building inside of her over the past few weeks (months if she were being honest with herself) and the constrictive feeling in her throat certainly wasn’t helping. “I guess… I guess I sorta always knew,” she managed to say. “When I was younger I was too sick and frail… Now I’m too healthy.”

Sam was silent for a moment, his brows furrowing and knitting together as the pieces seemed to slowly fall into place. Stephanie watched as Sam bit his lower lip, his teeth scraping against the soft flesh as he chose his next words carefully. “Why are you telling me this now?” Sam asked with a heavy sort of breath likely meant to be a sigh of resignation. “If you always knew… if you always had a feeling-”

“Because I can’t marry you, Sam,” Stephanie said, pushing the words out into the open before any part of her could reconsider. It was hard not to flinch when Sam bristled at the comment, when his warm eyes widened as if he had been stung by the statement. “I know you’re going to ask me and… and I can’t accept.”

Sam’s eyes were swimming by then, clouding over with hurt and confusion and so much pain and a part of Stephanie felt sick knowing that she had done this to him. Yet a bigger part of her knew that this was better for Sam, better than spending the rest of his years tied down to someone who couldn’t give him the family he wanted or kept hurting him by pulling him deeper into her complicated world. It was better now that he got out while there was still a chance. It was better for both of them.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she gently pushed his arms away. 

Yet Sam didn’t let go. His grasp tightened in a way that was more pointed than painful as he clenched his jaw and fought against the redness brimming around his eyes. “Stephanie, baby…” he began, his voice calm and forcefully patient, but his words were cut off when the phone still stuffed into her pocket began to chime. 

They went still for a moment as the pointed ring cut through the tension clouding the air. Stephanie hesitated for a moment as she considered the situation. She knew they both wanted to get everything out in the open, to be done with the whole awkwardness so that they could just move on, but Stephanie knew she’d be lying to herself if she said there wasn’t a Hulk sized part of her that wanted to cling to this relationship for as long as possible. Sam’s fingers went slack against her as Stephanie reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She saw the alert, a fire downtown just big enough to require the aid of Captain America, and swallowed against the lump thickening in her throat. 

“I have to go,” she said apologetically, shifting to stand, only to have Sam place a hand on her knee.

“We need to talk about this.”

“I… I have to go.”

Sam nodded, steady and resolute as he made to stand as well. “Then we’ll both go, because we need to talk about this.”

-

The fire had destroyed the top three floors of the five story apartment complex and had left a couple dozen people temporarily homeless, but thanks to the combined efforts of Captain America, Falcon, and the fire department, no lives were lost which was the most important thing. 

Smoke was still churning through the air as the now smoldering building was continually doused by the steady stream of water from the fire hoses. The paramedics had arrived on the scene and were tending to the displaced residence that were coughing and shaking and staring forlornly at what remained of their home. 

“What are we going to do?” a woman asked no one in particular. Her voice was tight from more than just the inhaled smoke as she stared red rimmed eyes at burnt stone and broken glass. “It’s all gone.”

The weight of the day seemed to press down on Stephanie all the harder at the sound of the woman’s words. The vibranium shield strapped to her back felt like a mountain pressing her deeper into the earth as she slinked morosely across the street teeming with rescue workers and sobbing tenants. The news vans were not far away, a fact she knew from experience and the desire to leave the scene practically gnawed at her. Yet the brush of Sam’s warm fingers against the fabric of her sleeve was enough to give her pause.

“We need to talk,” Sam said, his voice gentle and firm in a way that was meant to put her at ease but only made her feel run low. She turned to gaze at him reluctantly and saw that he was covered from head to toe in ash and grime, streaks of sweat breaking up the black patches smearing his skin and a perfectly clean ring around his eyes making it obvious where his goggles had rested on his face.

Her body, already weighed and worn from the night’s activities, suddenly felt impossibly drained at those words, yet Stephanie knew there was no backing away now. She had been avoiding this for long enough. “Okay,” she sighed weakly.

Sam notice the shift in her posture right away, his face crumpling with concern as he gently steered the two of them further away from the crowds and up against the steps of the brick and stone building across the street from the burnt down apartment. “Stephanie I love you,” Sam said, getting straight to the meat of things as he often did. “What you told me today doesn’t change that. I love you, every part of you.”

“Even the broken parts?” Stephanie countered, the sad smile feeling pained on her own face as she looked Sam straight in the eye. Sam had always been a good two inches shorter than her, but somehow in that moment Stephanie felt small and frail in his gaze, the way she had when she was another kind of broken in another body full of flaws.

“You’re not broken,” Sam countered, straight and determined.

“I’m not whole,” she said with a shake of her head. “Call it what you want I’m not… right. If I can’t do what a real woman should…”

“Being able to have a kid doesn’t make you more or less of a woman.”

Stephanie wanted nothing more than to believe that, to hold onto those words with all of her might and keep them firmly inside whenever the terrible cold feelings of disappointment began to claw at her stomach. Yet she felt them slipping out of her grasp like drops of water because even if it sounded right in her ears it also felt hollow. “I just… I just wanna have your babies,” she said, pushing the words out from a throat that was practically strangled with emotion. Her vision was blurred as she blinked the tears rapidly out of her eyes, because Captain America couldn’t be caught on the eleven o’clock news weeping in the streets. “I wanna be a good wife and have your kids, but… but I can’t.”

Sam sighed and grabbed her hands and held them in his own. “Any kid we raise together will be our kid,” Sam told her, giving her palms a squeeze that would have been tight to normal hands but was only a slight tug for her. “Any baby we bring home will be our baby. Doesn’t have to have your eyes or my nose… we’ll just love it the way moms and dads are supposed to do.”

Stephanie shook her head. That should have been enough, that should have been more than enough, because Sam was accepting her the way she was just like he always had, but she needed more than that. “Sam, I…”

“I was gonna ask you,” he cut in gently. “I was gonna propose, because I do love you and I wanna marry you, still do, but…” He sighed and gave her hands another squeeze. “But I don’t wanna do anything you’re not ready for. If you don’t wanna get married now, we don’t have to get married. We don’t have to do anything but help you get through this.” He took a deep breath and let it out through his nose as he gently tugged her closer. “You need to be okay with yourself.”

She barely managed to nod against the constricted feeling in her throat as she carefully slipped her hands from Sam’s hold in order to wrap her arms around him. Stephanie closed her eyes and pressed her face against his neck, ignoring the stench of smoke and sweat and just taking comfort in his warmth. Her body felt spend and rubbery even as she tightened her hold on Sam’s sturdy body, his own arms snaking their way around her and holding her securely. “I wanna be with you, Sam,” she whispered, her words muffled against the fabric his collar. “I love you, but I don’t wanna hold you back from getting everything you want.”

“Baby, you’re everything I want.”


End file.
